


It's Summer Vacation

by lugubrious



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Alternate Universe - summer holidays, Depression, Drug Use, Fluff, Implied Suicide Attempt, M/M, Physical Abuse, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lugubrious/pseuds/lugubrious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The phone rang at 12:03am. Thomas turned over on his mattress, yawning, and fumbled for it.<br/>“Hello?” He spoke with a tongue coated in sleep.<br/>“Hey.”<br/>“Who’s this?”<br/>“Uh. Name’s Newt. I was in your biology class one year.”<br/>“Oh. Right.” Thomas stifled another yawn. There was a pause. Thomas frowned. “So… why’d you call me?”<br/>“Yeah. Sorry. I know it’s a bit of an odd hour, but I was wondering if you wanted to come on a road trip with me.”<br/>“Mmm…” Thomas ran a hand over his face and sighed. “Um. When? Couldn’t you at least wait ‘til like 8am to call and ask or something?”<br/>“Well, I was thinking… now?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hullo!! first fic on ao3!

The phone rang at 12:03am. Thomas turned over on his mattress, yawning, and fumbled for it.

“Hello?” He spoke with a tongue coated in sleep.

“Hey.”

“Who’s this?”

“Uh. Name’s Newt. I was in your biology class one year.”

“Oh. Right.” Thomas stifled another yawn. There was a pause. Thomas frowned. “So… why’d you call me?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I know it’s a bit of an odd hour, but I was wondering if you wanted to come on a road trip with me.”

“Mmm…” Thomas ran a hand over his face and sighed. “Um. When? Couldn’t you at least wait ‘til like 8am to call and ask or something?”   

“Well, I was thinking… now?”

“Now?” Thomas glanced out the window. “Has the sun risen?”

“Screw the bloody sun. You game?”

“Is anyone else coming?”

“I got Minho the jock with me. And we’re picking up Brenda.”

Thomas looked around his room and shrugged. Then, remembering Newt couldn’t see him, he said,

“Sure. You want my address?”

“Tell me the street and then if you come down and stand out front we’ll swing past. Pack for a couple of days.”

“Where are we going?”

He heard Newt laugh quietly on the other end of the line.

“Away from here.”

Within 10 minutes he’d said his goodbyes to Newt after being promised a half hour to gather his things. In the light of the newborn day he threw clothes hastily into a worn suitcase and wrote a note for his parents explaining where he was, although the idea of leaving without a word to them wasn’t too preposterous. By the time a scratched-looking pick-up truck rounded the corner of his street Thomas was standing outside his house, with a bag in his hand and a sense of impatience filling his chest.

Newt nodded at him from the front seat. Brenda gave him a wave from the back as Thomas slid his suitcase into the trunk of the car and pulled open the door.

“Sorry to wake ya up so early, Edison,” Newt said, easing the car out of Thomas’ drive way and through the tired streets of his neighbourhood.

“It’s ok. I mean, it’s not like summer vacation is about sleeping,” Thomas shrugged. The guy next to Newt, Minho, laughed.

“All the same,” Brenda stifled a yawn, “I’m think I’m gonna doze off for a bit. Thomas, if I end up sleeping all over you, I’m sorry.” She settled back into her seat and closed her eyes.

Thomas turned to look out the window. In the pale light, the houses seemed lifeless and empty. The wheels of the car whirred quietly on the tarmac road.

Minho reached over and flicked on the radio, covering the silence with a blanket of music.

“I don’t think we were properly introduced,” he said, twisting around his seat to face Thomas. “I’m Minho.”

“Thomas.”

They shook hands.

“So, Newt, how’d you pick up this lively gang?” Minho asked. Newt shrugged.

“Dunno. First names in my contact list I s’pose.”

“Wow, way to make a guy feel special.”

“You want me to sugar coat it? I barely know you, you barely know me. The only ones here who are more than vague acquaintances are Brenda and Thomas back there. Why’d you agree to come, then?”

Minho raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I was just saying. Don’t need to get all touchy.”

“Where are we going, anyway?” Thomas said quickly, and both Newt and Minho looked relieved to have the subject changed.

“I don’t really know. Just thought we’d go for a drive, see what we come across, that kind of thing. Anyone got any suggestions?” Newt said.

“Anyone got a map?” Thomas asked. Minho nodded, handing one over to him.

“I feel like,” Minho began solemnly, “we should uphold the traditions of road-triping and go to at least one road-side strip club.”

Brenda, who until that moment had seemed to be sleeping deeply, kicked the back of his chair. She then rolled over and rested her head on Thomas’ shoulder.

“How ‘bout you two, huh, Thomas?” Minho asked, apparently used to being kicked at. “How’d you meet?”

“Don’t remember to be honest. I’m pretty sure we’ve just known each other forever.”

“Met when we were six. You asked me if you could braid my hair and cried when I said I didn’t want you to,” Brenda mumbled, and Thomas sighed.

“Couldn’t you have maybe not told that story?” he asked, while Minho grinned.

“This is so great,” he said, smirking. “I feel so much closer to you all already.”

“Beautiful sentiment,” Newt said. “Now how’s about we let Brenda get some of that buggin’ beauty sleep.”

“Oh, yeah, like she needs it,” Minho said, winking over his shoulder.

Brenda flipped him the finger.

“Hey! That was a compliment,” he said indignantly. She shrugged.

Soon the only sounds came from the music still drifting tinnily from the stereo, and the sounds of the highway they’d found themselves on. Thomas leaned against the window, his face near the condensation-riddled glass, and watched the cars speed past becoming slowly more visible as the sun gained height overhead. Even Minho eventually dozed off, his snores rumbling over the music, his head lolling at an angle that made Thomas wince just looking at it.

“Not tired?”

Thomas glanced into the rear view mirror and met Newt’s eyes.

“Nah. Kind of too excited to sleep. I’ve never been on a road trip.”        

“I used to go on them once a year with my sister after she got her license. We’d drive for days, just out into the middle of bloody nowhere and then back home.”

“She older than you?”

“10 years older, actually.”

“Jeez.” Thomas sat back. “Big gap.”

“Maybe. We were bloody close though. It’s nice when you have a sister who can be your best friend, role model and partner in crime all at the same time.” Newt was smiling, and Thomas nodded wistfully. “You’ve got a younger brother, don’t you, Thomas?”

“Yeah. Chuck. He’s only four years younger, and an annoying piece of shit. I love him, though.”

“Is he going to our old high school?”

“Nah.” Thomas shook his head. “He went to live with Grandpa and Grandma a year ago.” He could see Newt frowning in the mirror and braced himself for the questions, but instead of the usual ‘how come?’ Newt asked,

“You get to see him often?”

“Yeah. We catch up a lot. I think the separation brought us together y’know? Whenever we hang out we don’t fight like we used to, although I guess I miss that too.”

He fell silent, uncomfortably aware that they were straying into dangerous conversation territory, but Newt didn’t ask him anything else about Chuck. They sat quietly once more, but it felt more comfortable than it had. Newt seemed like a decent guy, and Thomas wondered briefly why they hadn’t developed a friendship during the time they had to work together in biology.

 _Probably,_ Thomas thought,  _because I was a complete dick in high school._ He shook his head.  _You only just finished high school Thomas, don’t get ahead of yourself._

Thomas closed his eyes and sighed.

When he next opened his eyes it was fully light outside. The sun was shining obnoxiously in his eyes, and the area surrounding the car was green and empty-looking.

“It’s alive!” Minho called as Thomas sat up with a groan and rubbed his stiff arm. Brenda laughed.

“Welcome back, Tommo,” she said, slapping said arm lightly.

“Not that nickname again,” Thomas groaned, trying to convey through his mock-grouchiness how little he actually wanted to be called that. Brenda laughed, and he took it that she hadn’t got the message. “What have you guys been doing while I was out?” he asked, ever eager to change the topic.

“Playing I-spy,” Newt said in a distinctly disgruntled voice. Minho shook his head.

“You’re a sore loser, Newton,” he sighed. “Hey, hey, both hands on the wheel.”

“Brenda, flip him off for me,” Newt grumbled.

“Who’s go is it?” Brenda asked, one finger faithfully extended in Minho’s direction.

“Mine,” Minho grinned. “I spy with my little eye, something that begins with… something that begins with… hm.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Something beginning with ‘c’.”

“Oh, thank the buggin’ lord,” Newt said, sagging a little up front. Thomas shot him a perplexed look in the mirror, and Newt smiled, seemingly despite himself. “This fucker’s been saying the letter ‘g’ for the last bloody half hour and every single time the answer is grass.”

“His excuse is he’s seeing a different blade of grass each time,” Brenda added.    

“Come on, I said ‘c’ this time, so you all have to guess!”

“Is it a ‘car’?” asked Thomas. Minho frowned.

“Who let mister know-it-all come along?”

“So do I win? What’s my prize?”

“Respect.”

“Hey, I thought we agreed on the winner getting to pick their seat when we switch at the next gas station?” Brenda asked.

“The winner of an eye spy game? Please,” scoffed Newt. “I’d say all of us have won at least a round each, so who gets to bloody choose?”

“Me,” Minho said, as though his decision was final.

“Why don’t we just rotate?” asked Thomas. “I drive, Newt can go shot-gun, and Brenda and Minho in the back.”

“Only if those two can promise not to go at it in my car.”

“I make no promises,” Minho said.

“I do,” piped up Brenda.

“Speaking of gas stations, there’s one past that next exit. Maccas for breakfast, anyone?”

“Sounds good to me,” Brenda grinned.

“I already live a life of bloody decadence,” Newt shrugged. “Might as well go all out.”

“That’s the spirit,” Minho said, nodding.

Within minutes they were parking outside a deserted-looking building. The temperature outside the air-conditioned comfort of the car was rising slowly. Currently it was just hot enough to make Thomas feel slightly as though the air around him was sticking to his skin. He was glad to be back in controlled coolness when they walked through the doors to the gas station despite how short the walk from the car had been.

“I can go order food,” Minho said. “Do we actually need gas, or did we just stop here to eat?”

“Brenda’s filling up the car,” Newt said. “Lucky actually, I have no bloody idea how to do anything except drive that thing.”

“How do you get around in it?”

He shrugged, and Minho laughed.

“Alright losers, what do we want for breakfast?”

“Don’t they actually do a breakfast meal at McDonalds?” asked Thomas, making his way over to the iconic yellow ‘M’ with Minho, leaving Newt flicking through newspapers in the general store.

“Yeah but I’m feeling something deep fried, probably meaty, maybe some coke?”

“Well I’m not gonna say no to that. No one here’s a vegetarian, right?”

“Don’t think so. We’ll get a large fries so they can eat that, just to be safe.”

“You are so thoughtful,” Thomas said. Minho smirked.

“Thoughtful more like thoughtless,” came Newt’s voice. He was clutching a book of crosswords and a pack of clinkers. It was Thomas’ first chance to see him properly since getting in the car that morning, and it seemed to him that Newt looked strangely washed out, worn and tired like an old t-shirt put through the washing machine one too many times. His hair curled over his shoulder in a ridiculously short braid, bits of hair escaping the hair-tie, and he had deep shadows under his eyes. Minho, on the other hand, was the picture of spritely. His hair stuck straight up from his head in all its gelled glory, and he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet while waiting for the food order. Thomas felt a sudden, inexplicable fondness for both of them.

“Order 36.”

“That’s us!” said Minho, leaping forward. “Help me carry our wonderfully oily feast back to Brenda, you two.”

Thomas took one of the bags and felt the warmth of the food burn his arms. Newt grabbed the tray of drinks, and Minho reached over and took a sip from one of the cups before Newt could stop him.

“Oi!” Newt said, ducking away from him. “Patience is a bloody virtue. Here, Thomas, maybe you’ll be better at fending him off.”

Newt passed Thomas the drinks and took the large bag of chips.

“Nice one Newt, passing the burden of the drinks to another. Good move.”

“What, you think I can’t handle the responsibility or something?” Thomas asked. Minho elbowed him.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” he said.

“Come on, idiots. Brenda’s waiting for us to return with food, and seeing as she’s clearly the only person in this bloody group worth anything, it’s best not keep her waiting.”

“Ouch,” Thomas grinned.

“That’s right, Tommy, ya heard me,” Newt smirked. “You worthless freeloader.”

“I paid for the food! I’m worth something,” Minho said indignantly.

It was only when they reached the car, Minho handing Brenda her drink and claiming that it was a token of his affection for her, that Thomas realised Newt had called him ‘Tommy’.

“Hey, earth to Thomas!”

He looked around at Brenda, who was clicking her fingers in his ears. “Thomas, you happy to drive for a bit?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah. No problem.”

“I’m riding shotgun,” called Minho.

“No, you’re not,” Newt said, diving into the car. “Get into the back seat you bloody moron.”

“Don’t you want to sit next to me, Min?” asked Brenda, batting her eyelids at him. He winked at her and sat down. Brenda immediately put her feet across his lap and leant against the window. “You make the perfect footrest,” she said happily as Minho scowled.

“So should we go back onto the freeway and just keep going straight?” Thomas asked Newt as he turned the key in the ignition. The truck grumbled into life and they pulled out of the empty parking lot.

“Why not?” said Newt. “Unless anyone else has a better idea?”

There were calls of ‘Nope’, from the back seats, so Thomas shrugged.

“So, crosswords huh?” he said, steering the car in a U turn and heading back to the freeway.

“Love the buggers,” Newt said, pulling out the book and flicking through it.

“Isn’t that a bit academic for summer vacation?”

“Says you, mr ‘I get physics text books for my birthday’,” called Brenda. Newt looked at Thomas, a smile tugging on his lips, and Thomas sighed.

“I like science,” he said, throwing his hands up before remembering he was driving. “Sue me.”

“Nah, science is bloody awesome,” Newt agreed. “Did you do year twelve bio?”

“Nope. Did physics and chem instead. Did you?”

“Yeah. I’m hoping to do something with plants y’know? Botany is great.”

“Botany huh? You have a favourite plant?”

“Jeez, Tommy, where do I even begin?” Newt asked incredulously. “Do you have a favourite element?”

“Potassium. Mainly because that was the first one I learnt that wasn’t like… hydrogen or something.”

“Fair enough. Alright, I’m gonna say my favourite plant is grass.”

“Grass? Really?”

“Grass is bloody amazing, honestly. Buggin’ invincible too. No matter what, come bloody… fire or rain or snow or anything, you get grass everywhere. It’ll get killed or burnt or cut down and it’ll just grow right back. Resilient stuff.”

“Wow. I’m impressed. Mostly because you managed to turn grass into something worth being impressed by, but all the same. You have a garden at home?”

Newt shook his head. He turned and looked out the window.

“See? Even on the road ya get grass growin’ through the buggin’ cracks.”

Thomas couldn’t turn and look at the grass because he was too busy concentrating on the road and not taking notice of the fact that the more passionate Newt got the stronger his British accent was. Thomas barely even registered that fact.   

“Alright. I will accept grass as your favourite plant. You know, I was thinking earlier; you’re a decent guy, right?”

“I’m bloody swooning.”

“Shut up. Anyway, you’re a decent guy-- how come we didn’t ever become friends that year we had bio together?”

Newt shrugged, his mouth tightening slightly.

“Dunno. Not a great year for me I s’pose. I wasn’t too good to socialise with. But that doesn’t matter now, we can start over, right Tommy?”

Thomas laughed.

“Yeah sure. Hi, my name’s Thomas. I’d shake your hand but I’m too busy driving your car down the freeway.”

“Interesting greeting. I’ll let you know what kind of first impression you made in about 20 years.”

“Deal. So, my newly made acquaintance, what is your favourite…colour?”

“Damn. You know how to ask the hard-hitting questions, huh.”

“I try. I’m the hardest-hitting question asker in the whole darn wild west.”

“Fuck off. Alright, favourite colour’s green. What’s yours?”

“I feel like I could have guessed that. Mine’s purple.”

“Favourite movie?”

“ _Pacific Rim_. No question.”

“I can agree to that. Except the best movie in the world is _Laputa: Castle In The Sky_. No question.”

“That’s by the guy who did _Spirited Away_ , yeah? I’ve never actually seen that.”

“What? Oh Tommy. Oh Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.”

“You can say my names as many times as you want; I still haven’t watched it.”

Newt sighed, looking for all the world that he was really deeply disappointed in Thomas. Thomas grinned.

“Alright, favourite—“

“Hey!” Minho called, making Thomas jump. “Can you assholes stop flirting for one second? I need to piss.”

Brenda snorted.

“Are you one of those people who can go like behind a tree, or do you need us to find another gas station?” asked Thomas.

“I was actually planning on peeing into the wind? Right after I paint the town red.”

“I will push you out of this bloody car right now.”

“It’s a truck, Newt. Just accept it.”

“Thomas,” Brenda interrupted. “There’re a bunch of trees over there. How about we pull over?”

“Pulling over,” Thomas said, steering the car into the lane on the side of the road. A bunch of other people were already parked there and were power napping in the front seats of their cars.

“You guys aren’t gonna drive off without me, right?” Minho asked, pushing open the door.

“Don’t count on it,” Newt called through Thomas’ window. Minho mimed jerking off in his general direction and then disappeared into the trees.

“What a delightful young man,” Brenda said primly, and Thomas laughed.

“So, Brenda,” Newt said, “You got any embarrassing stories about my boy Tommy over here?”

“Oh, god,” Thomas groaned, pressing his face against the steering wheel while Brenda smirked.  

“Where to begin?” she mused, her eyes crinkling wickedly.

“What are you beginning?” Minho asked, re-appearing by the side of the car.

“I’m telling embarrassing stories from Thomas’ childhood,” she informed him, pushing the door open. Minho gave a small exclamation that was scarily close to a cackle and jumped into the car.

“Hey,” said Thomas loudly, “here’s an idea. How about we drive in silence for a while? Y’know, like without any talking. Especially from Brenda.”

“I feel like some music,” Newt said, leaning forward and opening the glove compartment.

“What have you got there?”

“Mm… Ben Folds, Elvis, Red Hot Chili Peppers…and some other stuff.”

“Pass it here?”

Newt handed the pile to Brenda, who flicked through the CD’s.

“Everyone alright with Beach Boys?” she asked, brandishing the case.

“Are you kidding?” Minho snatched the case from her, “I love this stuff. Put it on, Newton.”

“Speaking of the Beach, how’d you guys feel about going for a swim?” Thomas pointed to a sign on the edge of the road that read ‘Smiths Beach: 6k after next exit’

“You guys bring bathers?” Newt asked. Brenda nodded and Minho shrugged.

“I can swim in shorts. I’m all for a dip though.”

“Alright, Tommy, to the beach.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Thomas grinned, turning off the freeway.

“How about we save the music for after, then, Brenda?”

“Yeah, alright. I haven’t been to the beach in years!”

“We used to go each year for like a track club retreat thing,” Minho said slightly wistfully.

“So you were a runner?”

“Oh yeah. I’m a jock, but at least I’m not a football jock.”

“You ever win anything?”

“Um, only first place in the interschool track racing championships?”

“You do realise,” said Brenda, “everyone in this car except for you is a fucking geek, right? Like I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of the interschool track racing championships.”

“Hey, speak for yourself,” said Thomas indignantly.

“Yeah, I joined the bloody track team for a while,” said Newt. Minho snapped his fingers.

“That’s right! I’d forgotten. But you left half way through the year?”

“Mm.”

“How come?”

Newt shrugged, and Thomas noticed his mouth was doing the tightening thing again.

“Probably because you were just too hot to handle, Min,” Thomas said, and Newt laughed. Thomas glanced at him. Newt’s smile was soft and comfortable once more, and Thomas felt a strange buzzing in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey!” Brenda called, “I can see the sea!”

She was pointing enthusiastically out the car window. “Look at it!”

Thomas turned his head to look out at the shifting blue mass of water. He whistled.

“Think of all the aquatic life out there,” said Newt appreciatively, gazing through the window. It almost seemed to Thomas that the further they drove the more relaxed Newt was. His face was light and his temperament seemed generally better.

“Wonder if we’ll see any sea grass,” Thomas said, and Newt nodded.

“Wish I’d brought some snorkellin’ equipment,” he said. “Wonder what kind of things I coulda seen. Bloody love the sea.”

“Who doesn’t?” said Brenda.

They parked the truck in the carpark, not unloading anything because they all opted to pull a Minho and swim in their clothes.

“After all,” Minho reasoned, “it’s summer vacation.”

Brenda and Minho raced down the steps and across the white sand to the lazy water. Thomas and Newt made their way more deliberately. As they walked, Thomas noticed Newt moved with a strange, almost limping gait. He was about to ask when Newt threw him a dazzling look that rivalled the sun on the waves and kicked up a splash of water.

“Hey!” Thomas shoved his palm into the sea, spraying Newt back, and the other laughed. Newt splashed him again, and Thomas backed up, caught himself on a ridge of sand and fell over. He could hear Newt laughing, Brenda and Minho calling to each other. The sun beat down on their backs as they swam and jumped around.

“Hey, Thomas, you forgot to take your top off,” Brenda said, shaking his wet sleeve.

“Didn’t forget,” he replied, pulling the sleeves down so they covered his palms. “It’s sun protection, duh.”

Minho raced past, shirtless and with his trousers rolled up to his knees. Newt jumped out of the water and tackled him, they slammed into the waves and both emerged, laughing.

Thomas squatted down, peering into the clear depths around his ankles. A flicker of silver caught his attention, he turned to see a fish darting out of his line of sight.

“Hey! Fish!”

There were cries of ‘where?’ and one ‘lunch time!’ from Minho. Newt waded over, shaking his hair off his face, and squatted down next to Thomas.

“Where’d you see it?” he asked. Thomas pointed a little way behind him. Newt twisted around to see and lost his balance. He would have fallen into the water again if Thomas hadn’t reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back.

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Don’t mention it,” Thomas mumbled, letting go and standing up. He tilted his head back and gazed up at the gathering of dark clouds above them. The air smelled like dirt, and as he looked upwards he felt a drop of cold water on his already damp face. Somewhere in the background Minho started whooping.

“I love the rain,” Newt said happily, closing his eyes.

“Me too,” Thomas said.

“Best road trip ever!” yelled Brenda.

They dusted the sand from their feet in the small bathrooms just off the beach. The rain was now beating heavily on the corrugated iron roof and making the beach water look like it was made of dimpled slate.

They bundled into the car, Minho and Thomas up the front and Brenda and Newt in the back, all wet from the sea. The interior of the car smelled like salt and drying clothes as Thomas sat on a towel and listened to the hiss of the rain on the road.

The Beach Boys played loudly on the speakers, Minho swore benignly at the other drivers on the road and Newt and Brenda played chess on a magnetic chess-board.

“Hey, Thomas, chuck us one of those jelly snakes?” asked Minho, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Do you literally want me to chuck it at you?” he asked. “Because I will.”

“Aim for my mouth,” Minho said, trying to simultaneously offer his open mouth to Thomas and keep looking forward.

“No shit,” Thomas grinned. He piffed the snake towards Minho and heard Brenda give an appreciative whistle when it landed on Minho’s face, hooking itself over his nose.

“Fuck you, Thomas.”

“I could try again, but we might all die.”

“You’re just a lousy shot.”

“I played basketball for a while,” Thomas said, miming shooting.

“Yeah, and your aim was probably the reason you left,” Minho said, swerving slightly on the road as Thomas punched him in the arm.

“I’m forbidding you two to ever sit up front together ever again,” Newt called from the back.

“You’re just jealous of the fun I have with your Tommy,” Minho said snidely.     

“Come on guys,” Thomas held up a hand. “Plenty of me to go around.”

Minho laughed and Newt flipped Thomas off with lazy elegance.

“What are we gonna do about sleep?” Brenda asked. “Like, were you planning on finding a motel or something?”

“We can do that,” Newt agreed, “or we can use the big blankets and sleeping bags I bought and sleep outside.”

“I vote we do that,” said Minho immediately. “As long as it’s not raining.”

“I’m good with that,” Thomas added. “The stars out here’ll be amazing.”

Brenda shrugged. “I’m willing to do whatever.”

“Can we build a campfire?”

“Only if you know how to light one, Min.”

“I sure as hell do.”

“Ok, then.” Newt shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”

“We have to buy ingredients to make smores,” Brenda said decisively.

“Good idea. My stomach’s been rumbling for the past hour,” Minho groaned.

“Yeah, don’t think we didn’t notice,” Thomas muttered. He glanced at the electric blue numbers flashing on the dashboard. It was 04:37pm. He looked back out the window, at the emptiness of their surroundings. It occurred to him that he’d never been this far from home without at least some sort of plan, some goal or destination in mind.

It was a strangely liberating feeling.

“It says on the map that there’s a camping site a couple of kilometres up.” Brenda’s voice registered through Thomas’ cloud of thought and he turned in his seat to look at her. “We could probably sleep there. I don’t think we would have to pay or anything, and I’m pretty sure that little sign there means ‘campfire,’ so. How does that sound?”

“Anywhere close by where we can get food?” Thomas asked.

“There’s another general store nearby it.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They purchased food from another chilly general store and loaded it into the car before driving to the campsite Brenda had discovered. It was a clearing amid many tall trees, far enough away from the road that the cars could not be seen or heard. The sky above darkened peacefully. The air felt cleaner than any Thomas had breathed before.

Minho was crouched over a concrete dip in the ground, the designated place for building a campfire, while Brenda and Newt laid out blankets. Thomas brought out fresh clothes for all of them, now that they were sufficiently dry.

“Shit! Fuck!”

“Sounding good over there, Min. Need any help?”

“Yeah, anyone bring with them a ‘how-to’ on building campfires. Ah! Sh—fuck!”

“Shfuck?” Brenda grinned. “I like it.”

“How about ‘shuck’?” Newt said, lying over the blankets and staring up at the sky.

“Shuck.” Minho seemed to be tasting the word. He repeated it, and grinned. “Shuck. Nice one.”

“Like heck, right?” Thomas asked.

“What do you mean, like ‘heck’?”

“Well, shuck combines shit and fuck, right? So heck is hell and fuck.”

“Wait, wait.” Brenda held up a hand. “I thought heck was the pg version of heck. When I was a kid my parents always used to tell me to use that instead of saying hell.”

“Yes!” Minho whooped, accompanied by the popping sound of flames.

“Hey, guys,” came Newt’s voice. “Check out the stars.”

The four of them gathered on the blankets, Minho, Newt, Thomas and Brenda.

“Newt?”

“Yeah, Tommy?”

“Thank you. For inviting me on this road trip. It’s awesome.”

Brenda and Minho made various noises of agreement. Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling noise.

“So,” came Minho’s voice. “We gonna eat these smores or what?”

Thomas felt his body vibrating with laughter. Newt curled up against him, trying to stifle snorts, and Brenda could be heard chuckling to herself. Minho looked around, trying to figure out why what he said was so funny. In the end Newt, hiccupping slightly, reached out with his free hand and patted Minho on the shoulder.

“We are indeed gonna eat these smores.”

They gathered in a circle around the fire, the warmth surprisingly welcome in the cooling air of the evening.

“Maccas for breakfast, lollies for lunch, smores for dinner? Amazing.” Minho nodded with satisfaction.

“Eh.” Thomas waved a hand vaguely. “It’s summer vacation.”

“Speaking of summer vacation.” Brenda poked at the fire with her marshmallow toasting stick. “What have you guys been doing? Apart from coming on this road trip obviously.”

Thomas felt the mood around the campfire shift slightly. He didn’t have to see Newt to know his mouth was tight again; he could tell from the ridgedness of Newt’s body next to his. Minho spoke up, perhaps a little too quickly, saying,

“Haven’t been doing much. How about you, Brenda?”

Brenda shrugged. Thomas could see the campfire reflected in her eyes.

“Mainly pining,” she said, humorous only in a self-depricating kind of way.

“Pining?”

“Yeah.” She laughed a little uncomfortably. “Unrequited love and all that.”

No one made a sound, but Thomas distinctly saw Minho slide an arm over Brenda’s shoulder.

“If they don’t like you back,” Minho said casually, “they’re probably a shucking idiot.”

Brenda laughed.

“You’re shucking right about that.”

There was another pause.

“Well,” Minho sighed. “I suppose now that Brenda has bared her soul to us, I should return the favour.”

“What? No I didn’t. It’s nothing, Min. I didn’t even tell you who I liked.”

“Yeah, ok, so I’ll just say I had a big break up this holiday. And it’s been not that great. That’s all. Now we’re even.”

They fell silent again, and the only sound was the cicadas chirping away in the grass. 

“That was some heavy stuff,” Thomas said eventually. “Now who wants to play animal, vegetable, mineral?”

“You science nerds aren’t allowed to choose anything fancy,” Minho said, pointing at each of them in turn. “No fancy plants, no special elements no rare animals or anything.”

“Fantasy animals?”

“I will accept fantasy animals. But like, mermaids and unicorns, none you just make up on the spot.”

“Oi, hold up a bloody second.” Newt held his hands above his head. “Are you tellin’ me you don’t believe in mermaids?”  

 


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas awoke spreadeagled over both the ground and Newt. The coolness of night was in the process of being burnt off, the sun peering over the edge of the world. The fire had died sometime during the night, and now all that was left was ash and the smoke still curling gently through the shell-pink sky.

He heard a groan to his right and raised himself slightly on his elbows to see Minho stirring. His hair was sticking straight up, a strange combination of bed-head and long lasting hair gel.

“You look like a porcupine,” Thomas said by way of greeting.

“Can’t talk,” Minho moaned. “Need fresh fruit. Or vegetables. Anything organic would be greatly appreciated.”

“If we left these two and drove out to find some fruit, would they die of joint heart attacks?”

“Dunno. I’m pretty sure Newt thought if any of us were gonna steal the ute it’d be Brenda.”

“Hey!” Brenda rolled over and whacked Thomas on the head.

“I didn’t even say that!” he protested.

“I know,” she grumbled sleepily. “Minho is too far away to hit though.”

“A raging storm is easier to sleep through than your bloody bickering.”

“Newt!” Minho pounced immediately. “We need to go somewhere they sell fruit. Fast. Or I may die. And I know you just wouldn’t be able to live on without me so really I’m saying this because I care about you so much.”

“We can,” Newt said, his eyes still closed, “but only if I don’t have to drive.”

“I’ll drive,” Brenda offered. “I haven’t yet.”

“Bags shotgun!” Minho yelled, apparently directly into Newt’s ear. Newt rolled over, curling into a disgruntled ball, and Thomas grinned.

“Sorry you’re stuck with me again, Tommy,” Newt said, squinting up at him.

“No problem. I like sitting next to you. You’re the only one who laughs at my jokes.”

“Your face is a joke, Thomas,” Brenda called. Minho crawled forwards and lowered himself so he was effectively lying across Newt and Thomas, and high fived her. 

“Alright, let’s pack up this dump and get this show on the road!”

As it turned out, Minho’s idea of ‘packing up this dump’ was to throw all the rubbish into a large bag and then shove the sleeping bags into the trunk of the ute in a haphazard manner, leaving the blankets for everyone else to deal with.

Newt opted for them to keep a blanket in the car with them, and Thomas couldn’t think of a reason why not, so when they crammed themselves into the car it was with Thomas and Newt huddled in the back, swathed in blankets.

“I won’t lie,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “Fresh fruit is not sounding too bad right now.”

Newt nodded.

“Maybe we’ll find some small town or something. We can raid their supermarket.”

Brenda pulled out her trusty map and studied it.

“There is a town about 10k from here.”

“Full speed ahead!” Minho called, pulling out of the car park and inching down the road.

“Go faster, idiot. We’ll be bloody run over at this speed.”

“I know, I know. Just messing with you.”

“Whoever decided inviting Minho along, what were they playing at?” Brenda whispered loudly.        

“Hey, Brenda, I thought you were driving this time?” Thomas looked at her, curious

She shrugged, stretching out in the passenger seat.

“Some of us are just better at dealing with not getting what we want,” she sighed regretfully, and Minho smirked. “Besides, this way I get to be in charge of the music. Anyone got anything against Jonathon Coulton?”

“He’s the guy who sings the zombie song, right?”

“He is indeed.”

“Nice,” Thomas nodded.  He glanced over at Newt, who was staring out the window. His hair had officially come out of its braid and was now floating around his head in a rumpled halo.

“Can I do your hair?”

Newt looked over, slightly surprised. Thomas tried to act as though he had totally meant to say that aloud.

“Sure,” Newt said, passing him the hair ties he had strung round his wrist. “Knock yourself out.”

“You know you have to keep it in, whatever I do, right?”

“On second thought…” Newt made a grab for the hair ties, but Thomas fell backwards on his seat, waving his finger in Newt’s face.

“Uh, uh, uh! Just sit tight, ok?”

Newt made a strange noise in the back of his throat, half resigned acceptance, half amusement. Then he twisted around so that he was sitting cross-legged, facing the street.

Thomas sat up too and plonked himself behind Newt.

“Does anyone have a hairbrush?” he asked.

“Sorry, Thomas,” Brenda called.

“Do I look like I need one?” Minho asked, patting his head.

“You don’t want a bloody answer,” Newt muttered.

“Ok…” Thomas reached forward and grabbed a lock of Newt’s hair. It was (as he had refrained from expecting) ridiculously soft (because he had no expectations in regards to Newt’s hair and how it should feel; he’s never even thought about it before). He combed through it with his fingers until it lay a little less wildly around Newt’s head.

“Hey, Thomas, got any idea what you’re gonna do?”

He shook his head a little helplessly, and Brenda beckoned to him. He leaned over, and she whispered, “pig tails,” in his ear.

“Like…?” he said, motioning with one fist on either side of his head. She nodded. He nodded too and began to separate clumps of hair at the base of Newt’s neck. They all fell into a comfortable silence, filled only with now the chorus of the song ‘re: your brains’ (ALL WE WANNA DO IS EAT YOUR BRAINS, WE’RE NOT UNREASONABLE, I MEAN NO ONE’S GONNA EAT YOUR EYES).

“Done!” Thomas said triumphantly. Newt turned around warily, and Thomas grinned. Brenda gave a squeak.

“Damn it Newt!” she cried, whacking him on the arm. “Why’d you have to pull that off?”

“Pull what off?”

“Look in the rear view mirror,” she said grumpily, apparently taking Newt’s perfectly acceptable appearance rather personally.

“Alright, Tommy, your turn now.”

“I don’t have enough hair for you to do anything with,” Thomas protested.

“I think I’ll manage.”

“You kids will have to wait,” Minho called from up front. “We’re here.”

“Shuck,” Newt cursed, while Thomas fist-pumped the air.

They tumbled out of the car, blinking in the fierce sunlight. Minho looked around.

“This is perfect,” he said happily. “There’s even a farmers market. How great is this?”

“I could really go for an apple or two right about now,” Brenda said, eyeing up the cart laden with such fruit in a variety of gold, red and green. “How’s about we split up, gorge ourselves on fresh fruit and veg and meet back at the truck in say… an hour?”

“Does everyone have money? I brought some along and I suppose I can share it with you if you desperately need it. For food and water and general things needed to stay alive.”

“Thoughtful Minho to the buggin’ rescue once again.”

“I’ve got money,” Thomas said, and Brenda nodded.

“Alright. So, back here in an hour?” Minho asked.

“Minho, just go. I know the market is calling too you.”

Minho yanked Brenda towards him, and together they walked off.  

“You know, I never considered that Brenda and Minho could do anything more than tolerate each other.” Thomas mused.

“Oh, I think under everything they do like each other. You just have to go way, way down.”

Thomas smirked.

“So, what d’ya feel like for breakfast, Tommy?”

“Want to have a look at all the stalls?”

“I certainly do.”

The market was a bunch of wooden stalls under a brightly coloured tarp in the middle of the town. There was everything there; food, livestock, crafts.

“I shoulda made Minho promise not to buy anything that’s alive,” Newt groaned as they walked past a gated area that housed about ten ‘prize winning goats’.

They ate watermelon and mango, drank homemade lemon tea. Newt bought a crate of cherries, just ‘for the hell of it’.

“Hey, check out that motel. It’s got a pool!”

“How long’s it been d’ya reckon? Should we go back to the ute?”

“I think so. We can ask the others what they wanna do. I wouldn’t mind staying here, exploring a bit more.”

“Yeah. I saw a nice bookshop, wanted to see if there was anything worth getting.”

“Second hand bookshop or regular?”

“Second hand.”

They traipsed back, each holding a handle on the cherry crate.

“If we swing it fast enough, all the cherries should stay in I’m pretty sure.”

Newt looked at him sceptically.

“I know that works with water, but does it work with other things?”

“We won’t know until we try.”

“Bloody pass, thanks.”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Brenda and Minho waving at them.

“You guys want any cherries?” Thomas shouted, brandishing the crate.

“Hell yeah.” Minho jogged over and took a handful. “This place is awesome. I haven’t eaten this much fruit in my entire life. I feel re-born.”

“He’s been saying that for the past 10 minutes,” Brenda sighed.

“We saw a motel with a pool back there; how’d you guys feel about staying here for the day?”

“I’m fine with that,” Brenda said, and Minho nodded.

“If we drive over now and check in, we can leave the ute there and just go for a walk.”

“Lead the way, Tommy.”

It only took an hour before they were installed within one of the many small rooms of the motel. Two lines of shocking lime-coloured rooms faced each other around a small circular swimming pool. Inside the room there were two beds, one bathroom and a small fridge. Newt dumped the crate of cherries in the fridge and slammed the door shut.

“Can I have a quick shower before we go out again?” asked Brenda.

“Yeah, me too actually. I need to freshen up.” Minho waved a hand at his gravity-defying hair.  

Newt shrugged. “There’s no rush. We’ve got this place ‘till tomorrow morning at 10 when we have to check out.” Brenda paid no attention to him and the bathroom door closed behind her with a snap.

“Are we driving back tomorrow?” Minho asked.

Newt shrugged again, tensing in that tell-tale way of his.

“S’pose so,” he mumbled. Thomas watched him, frowning. He didn’t like it when Newt went rigid. He wanted to see him soft and shining, as he had so often been during this holiday. He almost reached out to grab Newt’s hand, but thought better of it. Instead, he reached inside his travel bag.

“Want to play Monopoly?”

“Monopoly? Pssh!” Brenda stepped out of the bathroom, fresh faced and smiling as she towelled off her spiky hair. “If we’re gonna play something it should be ‘Forbidden Island’.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to get your team off the island before it sinks. It’s awesome. Can we wait until Min’s done his hair? Then we can all play.”

“Fear not, I am here.”

“Alright.”

Brenda brought out the box and cleared a space on the floor, explaining the rules as she set up the game.

“Basically, the only way to win is when everyone wins. You’re not pitted against one another, you have to work together in a race against death.”

“Sounds fun,” said Minho.

They were on their fourth round when Minho’s stomach started grumbling loudly again.

“Ah yes,” said Thomas, “the lunch bell.”

“Shuck off,” Minho said, rubbing his stomach while Newt grinned. “What do you think? Can we postpone drowning again and go get some lunch?”

“What’s the time?”    

“Clock over there says about 1:30.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Outside it was warm and breezy, with a few clouds skittering across a deep blue sky.

“Can we walk around instead of driving to a lunch place?” asked Brenda. The others nodded. They made their way through the front entrance to the motel and found themselves where the market had been that morning.

“They pack up well,” Minho whistled.

“Ok, looks like we have a bunch of small restaurant things around here. Who votes we eat where?”

“That bakery looks awesome. If we get like pastries or something we can walk around while eating?” 

Minho led the way to the red door and pushed it open. The interior of the bakery smelled like butter and sugar. Thomas didn’t blame Minho’s stomach for grumbling again at the sight of the gently steaming pies and pasties.

They left the bakery and walked around on wide footpaths, down pedestrian roads and through small archways, munching on sandwiches and sausage rolls.

“I dare Minho to go into that shop just there,” Brenda pointed at a dingy-looking building, “and buy the cheapest thing he can find.”

“You’re on.”

Minho ducked into the shop and re-emerged within minutes, looking gleeful and slightly disbelieving.

“I’m not telling you what I bought, you shucks. That wasn’t part of the dare, you’ll just have to wait and see. Now, I dare Brenda to kiss a stranger.”

“Anywhere, or on the mouth?” Brenda asked nonchalantly.

“Mouth, obviously.”

“Alright.”

The street they were on was quiet. The only other person on it was a girl standing outside a florist shop, gazing at the artfully arranged window display. Brenda coughed loudly. The others watched in amazement as she walked up to the girl. She said something inaudible and the girl laughed and nodded. Brenda leaned forward and, sure enough, their lips met. A moment later they parted, Brenda murmured something else, and the girl threw her a wicked smile before departing.

Thomas almost fell over at Minho’s slack-jawed expression.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” Minho asked over Thomas’ astonished and impressed laughter once Brenda had re-joined them.

“I asked her if I could kiss her,” she said triumphantly.

“Looks like we have a buggin’ winner.”

“You can’t even win truth or dare,” Minho protested.

“Still,” Thomas shrugged, straightening up. “Brenda clearly just did.”  

“Alright. You have my respect.”

“That’s all I win? We-a-k.”

“What do you want then?”

“You have to walk around shirtless for the rest of the day.”

“He does that anyway!” Thomas cried, while Minho smirked, pulling his top over his head.

“I know,” Brenda shrugged. “It’s eye candy either way.”

“Fair enough.”

“So.” Newt came to a halt in the middle of the path. “What does everyone want to do now?”

“I vote we go for a swim. There’s a pool by our motel, right?”

“There’s a pool  _in_ our motel, Min.”

 

“Yeah, exactly!  So. Who’s up for another dip?”

They walked slowly back to the motel, not feeling the need to rush as the sun beat down on their backs and heated the pavement.  Eventually they ended up inside their small, slightly cramped room.

“We gonna pull a Minho again and swim in clothes?” Newt asked.

“Don’t see why not. Race you shucks to the pool!” Brenda took off, Thomas close on her heel. She unlatched the pool gate, raced to the edge of the pool and then shrieked as Thomas pushed her into the deep end. He himself sidestepped into the water and immediately sank to the bottom, passing Brenda on the way down.

When he re-emerged he saw Newt and Minho throwing pool noodles, blow-up chairs and water balls at them.

“Where’d you get this stuff?” he asked.

“Lady at reception told me they were in the shed next to the pool.”

“Thomas!” Minho yelled, brandishing a pool noodle. “I challenge thee!”

Thomas pulled himself out of the water, groping for a weapon of his own, and held it out in front of him like a fencing sword.

“You’re on.”

Thomas stabbed Minho on the stomach, and in turn had his head cut clean from his shoulders. Minho cheered, while Thomas fell backwards into the pool, both middle fingers raised. Minho leapt in after him, and Brenda swam over to Minho, climbing onto his shoulders and grabbing the abandoned pool noodle.

“Newt!” she yelled. “Climb on Thomas!”

“But he’s so short!” Newt called back.

“Get up here you asshole.”

Newt laughed and swung his legs over Thomas’ shoulders.

“Alright, are you ready?”

Thomas took one step towards Brenda, Newt holding the sword high above his head, and they both fell backwards into the water.

“Gracefully done,” said Brenda.

Minho gave her a high five and then jogged around the pool yelling, “We won!”, and smashing the pool with the noodle in a victory dance.

“Oh, speaking of winning, we still have a game of Forbidden Island on the go.”

“Oh, shuck me I forgot.”

“Can we bring it out here and play by the pool?”

Brenda nodded.

“I’ll go get it.”

She pulled herself out the pool and traipsed back to the room. Newt hoisted himself onto the side and sat with his legs dangling in the water.

Thomas looked around, at the blue water, at his friends. Minho was trying to do handstands underwater. His legs stuck straight in the air for a brief second before he flipped up, water spraying everywhere. His dark hair was still, miraculously standing off his forehead and his smile wide and infectious. Brenda reappeared in the doorway of their room. She pulled the door closed behind her and sprinted across the gravel road in a deep blue t-shirt and shorts that stuck to her legs. She too was smiling; her hair sticking up somewhat haphazardly and a towel slung around her neck. Newt remained on the edge of the pool. He was gazing to his left. His baggy top was billowing wetly in the wind, and his hair was plastered to his face and neck.

It occurred to Thomas that maybe these people were, in fact, perfect.

Brenda plonked down the cards onto a discarded deck chair, re-arranging them in the way they’d been inside.

“Alright,” she said. “Where were we?”

Minho swam over to the edge of the pool, his elbows propping him up next to Newt’s leg.

“I’m pretty sure the island was on its last legs.”

“Only because Minho was too stubborn to hand over his winged-lion cards,” Newt huffed.

They played outside until the sun began to dip almost below the sky-line, tinting the air a pinky-orange colour. Thomas, now sporting an extremely fetching hairdo thanks to Newt, glanced around. He opened his mouth, but Minho held up a hand.

“If you say ‘time sure flies when you’re having fun’ I will kill you.”

Thomas grinned. “Time sure flies when you’re up to water level four and you haven’t collected any of the artefacts yet.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Anyone feel like dinner?”

“I dunno, I wouldn’t feel right going to eat unless Minho’s stomach had started rumbling.”

“There was a really nice pub place where we could probably get burgers or something if anyone’s interested.”

“Can we play never have I ever?”

“With what?” Minho asked. “I mean we could be like…every time you’ve done something eat a bite of your dinner but that’s a bit tame.”

“I was thinking more we could play with shots?”

“Now you’re talking.” Minho rubbed his hands together. “How many shots should we get? 10 each?”

“I would say yes,” said Newt slowly, “if I was made of money. Alas, I’m only buggin’ human. I think we’ll have to make do with maybe four each.”

“Can we get flaming shots?”

“We don’t even know if they sell flaming shots at this place. Also, the answer is no.”

After agreeing that no one could be bothered to change clothes seeing as they’d all dried off in the sun anyway, Thomas led the way back through the streets to the pub he’d seen. The door was open, filling the street with the smell of beer and meat.

“Table for four, please.”

They were taken through a small archway to a dimly lit back room crammed with tables. They ordered quickly, and within half an hour Minho was knocking back his first shot.

“You knew I’d be the only one who’d won a medal,” he said accusingly. Newt laughed.

“Ok, ok. My turn. Never have I ever… done it in the back of a ute,” Minho said, leering slightly at Newt. The other scowled, before sighing, and gulping down the alcohol. Brenda drank too.

“Who’s ute did you fool around in?” Minho asked. She shrugged.

“Don’t remember. It was just…convenient.”

“Alright, this isn’t a ‘never have I ever’, but where’s the weirdest place everyone’s done it?” Newt piped up. Brenda considered.

“Garden shed,” she said decisively.

“I gave someone a blowjob in the changing room for the track team,” Minho grinned. “Does that count?”

“Was your ex on the track team?” asked Thomas. Minho nodded.

“We dated for two years,” he said, nursing a glass of water.

“How come you broke it off?”

Minho shrugged.

“Last year I figured out I was aro. My boyfriend definitely wasn’t. I loved him, but not in the way he wanted me to.”

“To honesty,” Thomas said, and drank a shot, banging the glass back down on the table.

“Oi!” Newt said indignantly. “Those are for our game, you asshole.”

“Sorry.” Thomas raised his hands in defeat. “Also, the weirdest place I’ve ever fooled around with anyone is probably… I broke into someone’s beach house once.”

“Jeez. Tommy the criminal.”

“Shut up.” Thomas stuck his tongue out, and Newt smiled.

“Wait,” Brenda broke in, “Min, you’re aro bi, right?” She pointed at Newt and Thomas. “What are you two?”

“Bi everything,” Thomas said.

“Bi, panromantic,” Newt added.

“Bi, homoromantic.” Brenda nodded at all of them. “We’re like the _breakfast club_ but for bisexuals.”

“The _Bi_ reakfast club,” Minho grinned. “Now who’s go is it to ask the question?”

“Mine,” Newt said. “Never have I ever shoplifted anything.”

“Goddamn it,” said Brenda, drinking. Thomas laughed, and the next thing he knew-

Thomas woke up to thunder rumbling. His head didn’t hurt, exactly. He just felt rather foggy, as though his head was filled with a mist making it extremely hard to think. He looked around, disorientated, and fell of the bed. It was only when he was on the floor, untangling himself from sheets that he realizes it. The bed was empty except for his foot, still lying over the edge.

He stood up hastily, almost tripping over the sheets now strewn across the floor. On the bed next to him he could see Brenda and Minho stirring.

“Thomas?” Brenda croaked. “Whasamatter?”

“Newt’s missing.”


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas fumbled with the door of the motel room and pushed it open, rushing out into the heavy air that signalled the start of a rain-storm. He had opened his mouth to call Newt’s name when he heard a rustling noise.

Cautiously, hopefully, he made his way around to the back of the ute. Lying there on the tarp covering, looking up at the sky, was Newt.

Thomas felt a strange rush seeing him there, a mixture of emotions; relief, curiosity, anger and finally, inexplicably, peace. He hoisted himself up onto the back of the truck next to Newt and lay down on the tarp. The sky was a pale purple colour, the last shade of night. And, with his face in shadow and his heart beating a prickly tattoo against his ribs, Thomas spoke.

“’My dad isn’t a good man,” he said. He paused, swallowed, tried again. “I told you how Chuck was sent away to live with my grandparents. You didn’t ask why, which was refreshing because normally people can’t get the words off their tongues fast enough. He left because our dad is…” He stopped and sat up.

“Minho told me before at the beach that I forgot to take my top off, but I didn’t. I don’t take my top off, ever. I never even roll up the sleeves. I can’t.”

Without waiting for a reply, he pushed his long cotton sleeves up to his biceps, and in the light of the moon the purple colouring was completely visible. Newt didn’t say anything; he sat up beside Thomas and touched the bruises with butterfly fingers.

“I know you don’t want to go home,” Thomas continued softly. “The truth is I don’t want to either. This road trip has been the best thing of maybe my whole life. I don’t want it to end.” He fell silent. For a long moment, it looked like the conversation was finished. Until,

“My sister’s dead.”

“What?” Thomas looked around. Newt smiled sadly at his reaction and nodded.

“She died about a month ago now. She was the favourite child, y’see. My parents don’t want some bloody… broken son as their only child.”

Thomas kept quiet.

“Everyone keeps talking about the year we did biology together. That was the same year I joined the track team, and the same year I left it. You probably don’t remember, but half way through the year I stopped coming to class for a while.”

Thomas did remember. It hadn’t had a large impact on his life at the time, but he remembered hearing Newt’s name called on the roll, remembered hearing the teacher mumble “Absent. Again.” He remembered wondering what had happened, but only as a passing thought.

“I was in hospital.” Newt’s voice had gone very quiet. “I don’t really know what went wrong that year. I guess I just felt trapped somehow, and I ended up— Trying to get out. I had to drop out of the track team after because of my dud leg. And then after my sister died I could feel myself slippin’ back down, y’know? And I knew I had to get away as soon as possible. So I called the first few people I could find on my phone, people I didn’t know very well so they wouldn’t know about my sister and about everything, and left. And here we are.”

“Here we are,” Thomas echoed. They fell silent again. “But, Newt.” Thomas turned to him, wanting as he had before to grip the other’s hand but not knowing if it was the right time. Instead he opted for curling his fingers round the edge of the platform he was seated on.

“Newt, you’ve finished high school now. You can leave home whenever you want, whenever you’re able. You’re not trapped there anymore. You can go off to college or work or whatever you want to do. Did you apply to a college?”

Newt nodded listlessly.

“Most colleges begin in three weeks time. You just have to hold out that long, and then you can get out. And I promise that if you ever need to escape again during those three weeks, you can call me up whatever time of day or night, and I’ll come with you.” Thomas felt an iron fist crush his chest; his heart fluttered in his throat. “Newt, I—“

“Thomas!” Minho yelled. “Did you find him?”

Newt threw Thomas an unreadable look and stood up.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Don’t mention it,” said Thomas. He felt slightly shell shocked. Together they walked back to the motel.

“He found me,” Newt said.

“Thank God.” Brenda rushed over and pulled Newt into a bone-crushing hug, while Minho seemed to deflate slightly.

“Sorry for worryin’ you guys. Just wanted some air.”

“Newt, next time you want air, leave a note or something. Or you are a dead man.” Minho pointed a threatening finger at Newt, who smiled.

“Will do.”

“I feel like we should all watch something stupid on TV as a breather,” Brenda said. “Who’s up for it?”

Newt and Thomas pulled the bed-clothes back onto their mattress and clambered in. It was all Thomas could do not to wrap his arms around Newt, but he held back, instead enjoying feeling the dip of the bed next to him and knowing Newt was safe beside him.

“Any movies on?” he asked comfortably.

“It says _Step Up 3_ is playing.”

“Hell yeah!” Minho yelled. Newt smirked.

The next time Thomas woke up, it was to a room filled with sunlight and Newt’s breath puffing onto the back of his neck. He shivered slightly and slipped out from the bed into the bathroom.

Minho was already in there, brushing his teeth.

“M’nin’,” Minho said through a mouthful of toothpaste. Thomas nodded a greeting.

“Who d’you think’s gonna drive?” Thomas asked as he pulled out his own toothbrush.

“Probably Brenda. But it’ll be a two day trip back, so I dunno.”

“Ok. You done here? I want to have a shower.”

“What?” Minho grinned. “You can’t have a shower with me in here? There’s a curtain y’know.”

“Yeah, but I still have to get undressed.”

Minho winked, and Thomas shoved him out the door.

“If you get lonely in there,” Minho called, “don’t hesitate to shout out.”

“Shuck off.”

He re-emerged some ten minutes later to find the room deserted-- except for Minho, who was gathering the last of the luggage.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Brenda’s already in the drivers seat of the ute, and Newt’s checking out of the motel.”

“Is everything ready to go?”

Minho nodded.

“We didn’t really unpack anything. But you can check under the beds to see if we’ve left something behind.”

Thomas nodded, getting down onto his hands and knees and peering underneath the double beds. There was nothing there except lint balls and a chocolate wrapper.

“Call me odd,” Thomas muttered to himself, “but I’m pretty sure no one’s going to want that.” He threw it in the bin and left, shutting the door of the room behind him.

“You and Newt are in the back again, that ok?” Brenda asked. Thomas nodded. “Ok. We’re gonna drive over and pick him up. And then it’s back on the road. Also Minho is in charge of the music, so brace your eardrums.”

They picked Newt up and drove out the motel entrance, back around the town and onto the freeway. Thomas dug into the car pocket in front of him and found the packet of clinkers Newt bought on the first day. He waved the bag.

“Want any?”

Newt nodded. Thomas passed one to him, one to Minho and one for Minho to give to Brenda.

“Isn’t there a game you can play with clinkers?”

“Mm.” Newt held his up to his eye comically. “You have to guess what colour yours is gonna be. Then you suck it for a bit, count to three and open your mouth so the other person can tell you what colour you got.”

“Ok.” Thomas turned the small sweet over in his hands, leaving his fingers smeared slightly with melted chocolate. “I guess green.”

“I guess orange.”

“Pink,” said Minho.

The clinker tasted warm and sugary. Thomas licked the chocolate off until only the hard candy was left.

“Three,” Newt said, mumbling slightly, “Two. One.”

They both opened their mouths.

“Newt, you got pink.”

“What’d I get?” Minho asked.

“Pink as well.”

“Tommy, you got yellow.”

Minho clenched his fist. “What’s my prize for guessing it?”

“Same as our prize always is. Respect.”

“At least in track team,” said Minho sulkily, “they gave you proper awards.”

“Ok, Minho, what are we gonna listen to?”

“Wait and see my dear Brenda.”

He plugged his phone into the set and clicked on a song. As familiar beat started to play, Newt began to laugh.

“Bloody incredible,” he coughed, as Avril Lavigne sang loudly and ferociously about a girl she didn’t feel particularly fond of.

“Min, I take back what I said about you being in charge of music. You have even more respect.”

“I win everything. It’s such a burden.”

Within a few hours they passed the campsite where they’d slept the first night, and Thomas gazed at it with a sense of detachment. It seemed impossible that he’d been sleeping there only a day and a bit ago. What was stranger: the fact that the whole road trip was almost reaching 12pm on its third day out of four.

“Hey.” Minho’s voice broke through Thomas’ train of thought. “Who wants to play rock paper scissors?”

They all leaned in and hammered their fists on their palms.

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

“What the fuck is that?” Newt asked incredulously.

Thomas looked up from his own ‘paper,’ so see Minho miming something blasting into the air.

“It’s rocket. Duh.”

“Oh,” Newt said, “it’s gonna be like  _that_ is it?”

“It was always like that. You just didn’t realise.”

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

“Thomas will you leave ‘submarine’ alone I killed that two rounds ago with ‘giant squid’.”

“You guys are just buggin’ jealous you didn’t think of ‘almighty god’ before me.”

“Not jealous. More like… Well, do you have to bring it out every round? I mean it’s getting a bit predictable. Don’t you get tired of winning?”

“Nah,” Newt grinned.

“Rock, paper scissors?”

“Oh my god.”

Minho paused with his hands in mid-air, before continuing the strange movement of his arms around his head.

“What are you shucking doing?”

“I’m ‘the movements of the celestial bodies’.”

“I quit,” Newt said, dropping his ‘dungeon master’ hand, and Thomas nodded, dropping his own ‘banana’ hand. “Good game, everyone.”

“Good lord,” Brenda moaned. “You guys are fucking losers.”   

“Pretty sure you knew that about me at least when you agreed to come on this,” Thomas said, and Brenda nodded.

“That’s true, but I didn’t bargin on Minho being a loser too. And Newt! I had so much hope.”

“I’m a terrible influence,” Thomas sighed.

“You can say that again. When we get home don’t expect me to speak to you ever.”

“You’d miss me way too much to stay away.”

“Hey, Newt.” Minho held out his hand, fingers curled and thumb sticking up. “Thumb war?”

The wheels’ humming on the road were now a familiar sound, reassuring. Thomas gazed out the window at the passing countryside, the sparse vegetation and the groups of cows chewing lethargically.

“Hey, we should stop there for lunch.” He pointed to a road-side café and self-proclaimed ‘curio wonderland’.

“What the hell is a curio?” Brenda asked, pulling up in front of the dead-looking building. It was a true summer day, dry and draughty. Thomas felt the hot wind blow through his top, and tugged irritably at his sleeves. He caught Newt’s eye.

“Let’s hope indoors is air-conditioned,” Newt said, and Thomas nodded, raising his eyebrows to add emphasis. Minho pushed open the rickety glass door, and somewhere within the room a bell sounded. The building was empty. As they tip-toed inside Thomas felt an absurd desire to laugh. The shop/café was filled with shelves upon shelves of dusty looking knick-knacks, strange little items of virtually no value left to age quietly out of sight.

“Hey, Brenda, want to buy this ‘girls guide on how to be a goddess’?”

She waved a hand dismissively, “Like I need to be taught what I already know.”

Newt picked up a large pair of Hulk hands and pulled them on.

“Hey, Minho, fancy a thumb war rematch?” he called.

They milled around for at least 10 minutes, walking through the aisles.

“Hey, Minho, I think you need this.” Thomas passed him a faded book entitled ‘The All New American Bible’. Minho snorted.

“Are we sure this place is open?” asked Brenda, glancing around. “I mean there’s a real lack of staff.”

“I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t just leave the door unlocked if it wasn’t open, would they?”

Thomas went back outside and stared at the door. Off to one side was a small cardboard note that read ‘closed’. He poked his head through the door.

“It’s not open. There’s a sign and everything.”

“Jeez.”

They traipsed back to the car, all four stopping by the sign in confusion.

“This’ll be a story to remember,” Brenda mused after they’d all clambered back into the truck and were gliding back onto the road. “Although I think the same could be said for this whole trip.”

“You know what’ll make it even more memorable?” Minho asked, smiling slyly. “Remember that thing I bought at the town back there? I think that’ll definitely spice up the evening.”

“If you bought like ‘sex-dice’ or whatever—“

“Nothing like that!”

“What, then?”

“You’ll have to wait and see…”

“God.” Brenda shook her head. “You are so annoying.”

“I try.”

When evening had fallen and it had cooled again, Brenda pulled the truck up on the side of one of the quiet freeways, per Minho’s request. The four of them huddled on blankets behind the truck so they couldn’t be seen from the road.

“Ok, we’re here, now what did you buy?”

Minho couldn’t stop his grin. He reached into his pack and pulled out a paper bag.

“Would anyone,” he said, “like to guess what it is?”

There were cries of ‘NO,’ and ‘YOUR DICK’. He opened the bag. Inside was a clump of dried looking brown-y green leaves.

“Oh my god.”

“You bought  _weed_?”

“I know, right?” Minho laughed. “It was just there. I was like, can I buy this? The guy at the counter said, ‘sure, as long as you’ve got a good load of money on you.”

“I told you to buy something cheap!” Brenda exclaimed.

“Yeah but I bought pot instead,” Minho shrugged. “Want a joint?”

Brenda smirked at him.

“You bet.”

“How about you guys?” Minho turned to Newt and Thomas. Newt nodded, and Thomas shrugged.

“It’s summer vacation,” he said.

Weed was weird. As far as Thomas could tell it didn’t do much. Everything was a lot funnier, things moved a little slower than he felt they ought to. Somehow he ended up lying on the tarp at the back of the truck with Newt again, side by side, looking up at the stars.

“Do the stars look different to you? Different to normal?” Thomas asked. He felt Newt shrug beside him. “I think they look bigger. I love the stars.”

Thomas twisted around to face Newt. Newt’s face looked like it was bright, glowing somehow.  _You look like a star,_ Thomas wanted to say.  _I love you._ The words got stuck somewhere in his throat, and the next thing he knew he was kissing something very warm and his hands were running through soft hair and he felt bright and new and clean and good.

Thankfully weed didn’t give him much of a hangover. When Thomas came around he was still lying on the tarp. He sat up. His head felt odd, somehow, maybe lighter. He wasn’t sure. He slid off the tarp and onto the ground. Brenda and Minho were asleep on the ground, and Newt was loading blankets into the back of his car.

“You sleep well?” Thomas asked. Newt nodded, but didn’t say anything. He snapped the back shut and turned away. Thomas frowned. “Is everything ok?” he asked.

“Yep.”

Newt turned and limped away without another word. Thomas held a hand to his forehead. Last night was slightly hazy…maybe he’d said something…maybe it was something he’d done…

Tarp. Warm. Stars. Kissing.

Thomas blanched. He’d kissed Newt? He’d gotten high on weed and kissed Newt? Maybe Newt thought he didn’t remember it or something. Maybe Newt thought Thomas would treat him differently now. Maybe… Thomas’ heart stuttered. Maybe Newt didn’t like that Thomas had kissed him. Had he completely ruined everything? Thomas leaned against the car with his head in his hands. He definitely had wanted to kiss Newt, for a while now. Even if he apologised they couldn’t go back to being friends because it would be too complicated. Or maybe they could. He couldn’t even congratulate himself on plucking up the courage to kiss him because he’d been stoned. He sighed and drew a hand across his face.

“Thomas?”

He jumped. Brenda was walking towards him, her hand over her mouth as she yawned.

“You ok?” she asked. He nodded, not sure where he would begin if he were to answer truthfully. “That was great stuff Minho found, huh?”

“Mm. Strong.”       

“Was that your first time?” she asked. He nodded. “Ah. It’s ok, the foggy feeling goes away.”

Thomas didn’t even feel foggy anymore. That had been ripped away by a fear that Newt hated him now. He didn’t say that though; he just smiled.

“We hitting the road?” he asked. She nodded.

“As soon as Minho gets his ass off the ground, yeah.”

“Can I drive?”

She looked at him closely. “You still high?”

“No.”

“Then sure. You mind who takes shotgun?”

“Nah. Except… I’d rather I didn’t have to sit next to that girl… what’s her name? Brenda? She’s kind of terrible.”

“Fuck you.”

Minho walked over to them, running a hand through his hair.

“Have a good night?” he asked. They both nodded. “That was some great stuff.”

“I know, right?” Brenda whacked him on the shoulder. “Colour me impressed.”

“Who’s driving?”

“Thomas volunteered.”

“Shotgun!” Minho called loudly, and Brenda winced.

“How old are you again?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Newt, we ready to go?”

Newt peered around the side of the car and nodded. “Who’s sitting where?” he asked.  

“Thomas’ driving, I’m riding shot gun. That leaves you and Brenda in the back. Although we’ll probably have to change at some point, seeing as you’re gonna want to be the one driving your own car home.”

Newt said nothing. He opened the door and slid into the seat. Brenda and Minho swapped looks.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

They clambered in and Thomas turned they key in the ignition.

“We should stop for gas pretty soon,” he called.  

“How much is left?”

“’Round twenty five percent?”

“Brenda, any gas stations nearby? We can get breakfast, too.”

“Yep.” Brenda glanced at the map. “There’s one about 5k away.”

“Awesome.”

“What do you guys want for food?”

“I’ve been craving a coffee for a while,” Brenda admitted. “But I don’t mind about food.”

“I’m happy to eat anything,” Minho said.

“I can pay this time.” Thomas glanced at Minho. “Seeing as you did last time.”

“Thomas…” Minho put his hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “I’m not going to say no to a free breakfast.”

“Get off me, shuck-face.”

“We should buy some new music, too. Get some new sounds going.”

“You and Newt can handle that,” Minho said. “Thomas and I’ll get breakfast.”

“Deal.”

Thomas glanced out the window. “Looks like a rainy day,” he muttered. The clouds stirred overhead, fidgeting through the sky. By the time they reached the gas station, fat drops were already starting to fall. Thomas and Minho left Newt and Brenda to deal with filling up the gas tank and choosing the music. Thomas knew it was childish, but he almost felt that if he didn’t speak to Newt it could be like they were still friends who just weren’t talking.

It didn’t make him feel much better.

“How about we mix it up and go Hungry Jacks for breakfast?”

“Thomas. The things you say are just…you clearly have much to learn.”

“I’m guessing you want Maccas again?”

“You know me so well,” Minho grinned. “Hey, when we drive back we’ll pass the beach we swam in on the way here. Weird, huh?”

“Time flies when you’re—“

“La, la, la, la, la, I can’t hear you!”

Thomas handed Minho the money and looked around while he ordered. The gas station was the same as all the others, cold and lifeless.

“I wonder when the rush hour for these places is,” he said once Minho had re-joined him.

“Maybe like 3-4pm?”

“How come?”

“I’m not sure. It seemed like a good time.”

Thomas shook his head and made his way back to the general store. Brenda and Newt were paying for the gas, and Thomas saw Brenda clutching a CD.

“What’d you get?” he asked. She waggled her eyebrows at him.

“You’ll see. Oh, also, we’re swapping seats so Newt can drive on the way home.”

“Makes sense,” Thomas said. “Although Minho will be sad to give up his music powers.”

“He didn’t put anything on today!”

“I know, but I think it’s the fact that he could if he wanted to.”

They pushed open the gas station door and were hit with humid winds. The rain was still doing nothing more than spitting as they hurried across to the car, clambered laboriously in and turned back onto the road.

“We got McDonalds,” Minho said, handing out the food.

“Surprise, surprise,” Newt said, taking a bite out of a chip.

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

Newt shook his head, smiling. “’M not complaining. Just commenting.”

“So, Brenda, what music did you purchase?”

She laughed. There was a sound of crinkling plastic and she slotted a CD into the CD player.

“What the hell is this?”

Brenda passed him the case, and he turned it over.

“You bought the _Shrek_ soundtrack?” he asked incredulously.

“For five ninety five,” she said, still laughing.

“Perfect. I’ll be singing ‘Hallelujah’ for a week,” Minho grumbled. “Hey, Brenda maybe you should use this to serenade Teresa.”

Brenda nodded, grinning.

“You sure know the way to a girl’s heart.”

“Teresa?” Thomas asked. Brenda shook her head.

“I’ll tell you some other time,” she said.

“Wow, you guys have in-jokes now?” Thomas sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I’m wounded.”

“Your life is our in-joke, Thomas,” Brenda said, and Minho whistled.

“Burn!” he yelled. “Want some ice for that burn?”

“Shut up,” Thomas groaned. “Send that back to 2012 where it belongs.”

The ride home was largely uneventful. Thomas spent the majority of it either staring out the window or playing ferocious games of Spit with Minho. More often than not, he lost spectacularly.  

By the time they reached their town, Brenda was asleep in the back, having swapped with Minho.

They stopped outside her house, and Minho reached over and shook her gently.

“Brenda,” Thomas called. “We’re at your house.”

She stirred, mumbled something, and then jumped and looked around.

“You ok?”

“Yeah. Just had one of those falling dreams. What did you say, Thomas?”

“We’re at your house.”

“Oh. Oh! Right.” She hugged Thomas, then Minho and finally reached across and wrapped her arms around Newt from the back of his seat. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said.

“Thanks for comin’,” Newt replied. Brenda nodded and opened the door, sliding out onto the street. She withdrew her luggage from the back and they watched her skip up the steps to her house, where she pressed the doorbell, and then waved at them until they drove away.

“Thomas, you next,” Newt said.

“Um, would you actually drop Minho off before me?” Thomas said quickly, deciding on the spot that he would not let Newt drive away after the four days they’d just had, hating him. At least, not without explaining. Newt didn’t say anything, but he turned down a different street and in a few minutes pulled over outside an unfamiliar house.

“Ok Min.”

Minho gave Newt a one-armed hug, reached around to high-five Thomas and got out. Instead of ringing the doorbell he climbed over the garden gate and disappeared.

“Inventive as always,” said Thomas dryly. Newt didn’t reply. “Newt, what’s the matter?”

Newt didn’t say anything until they reached Thomas’ street. He cut the engine and turned to Thomas.

“This is you,” he said. His mouth was as tense as Thomas had ever seen it.

“Wait, Newt, I have to talk to you. About the other night. I’m s—“

“Don’t be sorry,” Newt cut him off, laughing sharply. “I know you only did it because you were stoned, it’s ok.”

“What?” Thomas shook his head. “No, I did it because I love you.”

There was a pause.

“What?” said Newt, in a very different voice to before.

“I love you. I tried to say the other night in the truck, until Minho interrupted and we went inside to watch _Step up 3_. I mean, the only reason I managed to pluck up the courage to do it was because I was high, but I’d been wanting to kiss you for…a while now, actually.”

“Oh.” Newt was speaking very, very softly now. “So, would you maybe want to do it again?”

“I would,” Thomas said, and he leaned forward.

Kissing Newt sober, he decided afterwards, was probably the best experience ever. His stomach fizzed with nerves, and the tips of his fingers tingled as he carefully cupped Newt’s cheek. When they broke apart, Newt spoke quickly.

“I’m sorry I was a bloody asshole I thought you kissed me because of the weed and you didn’t like me  _that_ way and I guess I was just,” he laughed, “sulking a bit.”

“It’s ok,” Thomas said. “I was worried you hated me.”

“I don’t think that’s bloody possible.”

“So you forgive me?”

“Maybe I don’t,” Newt said, smiling. “Maybe you need to kiss me some more until I’m convinced.”

“How does a picnic date at the Botanical Gardens sound, then?” Thomas asked.

“That sounds perfect.” Newt said.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if you enjoyed it/hated it/were so-so about it. any and all comments are appreciated!


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